


About a Sweatshirt

by planiforidjit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Top!Cas, bottom!Dean, that sweatshirt basically ruined my life, this is because of that sweatshirt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 21:09:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3303524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/planiforidjit/pseuds/planiforidjit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is really into that sweatshirt that Dean was wearing in About A Boy</p>
            </blockquote>





	About a Sweatshirt

Cas is waiting in the bunker when Sam and Dean return. Dean is himself again. Or his older self. He's wearing the kid's clothes still, though. The hoodie over the t-shirt and it makes Cas shift in his seat. 

"I'm wiped," Sam says with a stretch. "I'm going to bed. I'll see you guys in the morning." 

Dean collapses in a chair near Cas. "Dude, can you get me some booze? I'd get it myself but—." 

"Don't worry, Dean. I've got it." 

Cas disappears into the kitchen and comes back with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. Dean gives him a sad smile. 

"How are you doing?" Cas asks. 

"Come on, man, you know." 

"The mark is back?" 

"Yeah. It's back." 

Cas doesn't pour the whiskey for Dean even though he's clearly waiting. He takes a deep shuddering breath. "I'm attracted to you in that sweatshirt, Dean." 

"What?" 

"The sweatshirt. It's attractive." 

"Cas...are you hitting on me?" 

"I, uh, I suppose I am though I feel like that isn't entirely accurate." 

"Oh. Thanks?" 

"You're attractive all the time, Dean. It's just the hoodie exacerbates it. The attractiveness." 

"Oh my god, Cas." Dean ducks his head down and laughs. "Are you just doing this to make me feel better?" 

Cas brightens a little. "Is it working? I can compliment you further. I like your freckles. I think you look better in a t-shirt than in a suit. You have very beautiful eyes. I really like the hoodie." 

Dean laughs. "It's working. Why do you like the hoodie so much?" 

Cas chews his lip. "You look comfortable. I like it when you're comfortable. You're never comfortable. I'm always worried when you're going to snap, when you'll start hating yourself again. But in the sweatshirt...it's like when you wear a t-shirt and its you. I like when I look at you and you're you. I am invested in you. I went through so much. I like when you don't hate yourself." 

"I hate myself even with this sweatshirt on." 

"Well you shouldn't. You still look better. Better than you do in suits." 

"Hey. I know I look damn good in a suit." 

"You look good. But not like my Dean." 

Dean snorts. "Yours?" 

"Yeah. Mine. I rescued you from hell, Dean and from a thousand other places. You're mine." 

Dean stands up. "I don't know if I feel like drinking. I'm going to bed." 

Cas stand up too. Nods. "All right." 

Dean walks towards the door. He looks back because he always looks back and Cas is standing by the table looking a little sad and confused and he thinks Dean is attractive. 

"I have to go," Cas says. 

"Oh." 

"I'll be back, Dean." 

Dean doesn't take off the hoodie except to shower for days. At first Sam doesn't care. What is he really going to do about it? And weirdly Dean seems better. 

"It's like a security blanket." 

"Okay," Sam says. 

But then it's too smelly, too stiff, too weird and Sam makes him wash it. Dean pouts the whole time it's being washed, snaps at Sam, drinks three beers, looms for something to hunt and kill. An hour passes and Sam takes the hoodie from the dryer and Dean pulls it on over his t-shirt. It's warm and soft and Dean curls up on the couch with it like a little kid and falls asleep. 

Sam has no fucking clue what's happening, but he lets it go. 

"Have you heard from Cas?" Sam asks a few days later. 

"No," Dean says. "I was just kind of letting him do his thing. He didn't say when he was coming back." 

Sam nods. "So, you really like that sweatshirt." 

"It's comfy." 

"So...you haven't gotten laid since becoming a demon...are you in love with the sweatshirt? Can you be sweatshirt-sexual." 

"I'm not having sex with this sweatshirt. It's just a comfort thing." 

"It's your security blanket." 

"No. I'm not you at the age of fourteen." Dean laughs at his joke. Sam thinks it was a little forced, but he doesn't say anything. 

"Is it because of being turned fourteen?" 

"No. It's just nice. I wouldn't have discovered it without turning fourteen again but it's not about that." 

Sam lets it go because he doesn't want his big brother to shut down again. He tells himself he'll ask again later and Dean tells himself that it's all totally normal. It is normal. Normal to have something to be comfortable with and hold on to. 

A while later, Dean is still wearing the hoodie, and Cas comes back into their lives. They have to kill something and save some people, but then it's just them back at the bunker. 

"You're wearing the sweatshirt," Cas says. Dean is overwhelmed. He's overwhelmed by how overwhelmed he is. Cas looks at him like he's happy, like he's done something good. 

He reaches up to touch the drawstring and Dean presses forward, cups Cas's face with his hands and kisses him like he's never ever done anything more important. 

Cas is just as forceful as Dean, pressing him back into the wall, gripping his hands into the sweatshirt, pressing a knee between Dean's thighs. 

Dean doesn't even have time to react to the fact that Cas doesn't even seem surprised. Cas knows exactly what he's doing. He wants to do this. He wants to kiss Dean like he's going to devour him. 

"My room," Dean gasps between Cas's lips. 

Cas grunts, kisses down the column of Dean's throat, drags his teeth along the stubble. 

"Come on, man," Dean growls. Because he wants more. He doesn't know where it came from, but he needs it. He's going to expire and suddenly he gets why people use the word expire because Cas is just going to use him up if they don't get in his room and get naked right away. 

Without saying anything Cas snaps his finger and they're in Dean's room. Cas slams him up against the door and it's ridiculous that this skinny, awkward angel can just man handle Dean like that. It doesn't even matter. Dean would let Cas do anything to him. He just wants to touch and kiss and fuck. 

Dean pushes at Cas's trench coat and Cas lets it fall to the floor. 

"I'm just going to snap it away," Cas mumbles. 

"No." Dean puts a hand over Cas's. "I want to get you naked. I want to do it." 

Cas pulls back, looks him in the eye, he nods. "All right, Dean." 

Cas helps Dean pull of his tie and then lets Dean get the buttons on his shirt, but he gets frustrated when Dean can't get them quickly enough. 

"Jesus, dude," Dean says when Cas rips the last few buttons. "I was trying." 

"Not good enough," Cas says against Dean's lips. He bites and gasps as Dean's hands run over his arms. 

"Fuck," Dean says, when his fingers trace Cas's surprisingly muscular shoulders. 

"What?" Cas asks. 

"You're just...you're really fucking hot, man. When did that happen?" 

"I don't know, Dean. Maybe you just weren't paying attention." 

Dean kisses Cas's neck, his chest, across his shoulders. He lets Cas push against him, feels his cock in his pants. 

"You can mojo the rest of our clothes away," Dean says to Cas's nipple, letting his tongue ghost out over it. 

Cas's hips stutter forward and he snaps his fingers. Cas is naked now and Dean is...

"Wait, why am I still wearing the hoodie?" Dean asks as Cas manhandles him towards the twin bed in the center of the room. 

"I like it," Cas says, pushing Dean back into the bed. 

Cas presses kisses to Dean's exposed chest and Dean lets his fingers card through Cas's hair. He should be more in awe of what's happening to him right now. Because Castiel, angle of the Lord and total nerd, has his lips around one of Dean's nipples and he's biting down. When Dean arches his back, Cas pushes his hips back down into the bed. Cass kisses the anti-possession tattoo, the line between Dean's abs and when he reaches the base of Dean's hard dick, Dean whines. 

"Cas," Dean gasps. "You don't...if you don't want--." 

"I want, Dean," Cas says. 

"Fuck," Dean says, letting his head his the pillow. "Fuck, Cas." 

Cas presses his nose to Dean's dick, follows it until he reaches the head and it slips into his mouth. Dean's hips press up even though he doesn't want them to. He doesn't want to do too much, but Cas doesn't fucking do anything. He just lets Dean trust up and fuck his mouth and Cas is following his dick down, hollowing out his cheeks like a porn star. 

"Fuck." Dean moans. "Cas. Where did you...how did you?" 

Cas pulls off. Pants. "I do know other people Dean. I don't spend all my time with you and Sam." 

Dean lets out a noise from deep in his throat that he can't even categorize and Cas goes back to working on his dick like he loves it. Cas spreads Dean's thighs, presses a somehow lubed finger to his hole and Dean gasps. 

"Cas," Dean says and Cas pulls away. 

"Do you want me to stop?" Cas asks, leaning up and kisses Dean's lips. Dean kisses him back because, fuck, he missed Cas's lips in those minutes he was on his dick. 

"No," Dean says. "I just...I've never...never had a real cock back there." 

"Your fingers?" Cas asks and Dean nods. 

"And a vibrator. When I knew no one would know." 

Cas presses a kiss to Dean's flushed chest. "Can I keep going?" 

"Yeah," Dean breathes. "Yeah. Please." 

"You're going to be so good, Dean," Cas says. He kisses Dean, pushes his legs further apart and presses a second finger inside. He lets Dean get comfortable, adds a third. 

"Cas," Dean says, his hands grasping onto Cas's shoulders. He just wants to say his name. He can say it. Say it over and over and over again. "Cas. Cas, I want it. Want you to fuck me." 

Cas nods quickly, his breaths are shallow and he looks like he wants to say something and can't. He leans back and stares at Dean. Dean doesn't say anything, lets him take it all in, lets him run his hands over the edge of the hoodie and Dean almost laughs at that. He's all hot and sweaty and still wearing the goddamn hoodie. 

"I want you to ride me," Cas says softly, his fingers running down Dean's chest. He presses up Dean's legs and guides his cock against Dean's ass. Dean lets out a moan. He inches closer, pushing himself inside of Dean, leaning to press his lips to Dean's ear. "Another time. I want you on top of me with that sweatshirt. I want to watch you fuck yourself on me." 

Cas emphasizes the word "fuck" with a thrust of his hips and Dean shouts. 

"Cas," Dean says, pulling Cas in for a kiss. 

Cas moves his hips slowly and lazily and Dean doesn't seem to care at all. They kiss as lazy as Cas's thrusts and Dean makes a high pitched noise against Cas's lips that he didn't even know he could make. Cas leans back again. He pulls out and pushes back in a little faster and a little rougher. 

"That okay?" he asks and Dean nods. 

"Fuck, yeah, Cas." Dean presses his head back into the pillow. "You can go a little harder, man. Give me some more." 

Cas does. He goes harder and faster and wraps his hand around Dean's cock. 

"You're so beautiful," Cas gasps. Dean can tell it's getting harder for him to talk. 

"Not beautiful." Dean can only speak through his teeth. If his mouth opens further all he can do is groan. "Not a chick." 

Cas huffs out a laugh. "Still beautiful, Dean." 

Cas snaps his hips forward and Dean closes his eyes. "Castiel." God it's like he's praying for Cas again. Like he used to do. 

And Cas comes. He can't stop it, even though Dean is still hard, still needs to be fucked. He can't hold it back. He leans down, jerks Dean's dick fast, presses sloppy kisses to his lips. 

"Beautiful," Cas says. He kisses Dean's neck. "Dean. Come on. I want to see you come. I want to see how beautiful you are when you come." 

Dean eyes shut tight like he's holding back tears and he gasps, spilling hot between himself and Cas. Cas covers Dean in little kisses, continues to jerk him through his orgasm. 

"You're so good, Dean," Cas presses a kiss to Dean's forehead. "You're so amazing. You're perfect." 

"Stop saying nice things about me." 

"I can't stop." 

"I'm not those things." 

"You are." 

"I'm not good things, Cas. I'm ruined." 

"You're just you," Cas says. "All of you. And I love all of you." 

Dean's chest hitches at that. "What?" 

"I love you. I feel like that pretty obvious." 

"It's not." 

"I rescued you from hell." 

"Yeah but that was," Dean pauses to think while he counts, "seven years ago. Fuck me I'm so old." 

"Maybe later," Cas mumbles. 

"Har, har." Dean leans up and kisses Cas. "That was actually a pretty okay joke." 

"I know. I'm funny." 

Cas falls into the bed on his side and Dean rolls over to face him. It's weird that this is Cas, maybe, but then it's so comfortable. It seems like the logical step to press his fingers into Cas's hair and kiss him lightly like they're a couple who do this. 

"I guess you should probably know that I love you too," Dean says. 

"I know," says Cas.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! We're on Tumblr! http://planiforidjit.tumblr.com/


End file.
